


I Will Be Your Sacrifice

by Basil_Gray



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Child Abuse, Crime AU, Depression, Dissociative Amnesia, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, F/M, It’s going to be kind of like the manga, Loveless AU, M/M, Mafia AU, Otabek is 18, Pining, Yuri is 15, but not really, dark au, idk how far I’m going to take it, lots of crime syndicates, maybe some fluff if you’re lucky, mistaken feelings, underage touching and kissing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-28 04:48:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13896615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basil_Gray/pseuds/Basil_Gray
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky has been alone since the death of his brother, Yuli two years ago. A suicide is what the adults say, but Yuri refuses to believe his brother left him alone willingly. With only his classical ballet coaches Yakov and Lilia to guide him, Yuri trains long hours, like his brother, while trying to battle public school and his abusive mother. Just when Yuri begins to accept his new life, a strange man without his ears shows up after one of his lessons and says the he knew Yulian intimately and that he could show Yuri the dark side of his brother’s life nobody knew.





	I Will Be Your Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

> I’m reading ‘After Dark’ by Haruki Murakami and I’m absolutely in love with his writing style, so I’m going to give it a shot in this fic! I hope that you enjoy this style of storytelling as well and the fic! Thank you for reading. ^^
> 
> Also this is a Loveless au, and although it’s not stated in the fic, please imagine the characters with ears and tails. It’s not stated in the manga because it’s a normal thing and the only time it’s really mentioned is when someone doesn’t have theirs because that means they did the deed. :p I will in the future periodically bring it up to remind people of their kitty features. :3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flurry blows through the grey sky that’s thick with clouds. We see a boy with golden spun hair and headphones, not ear buds, tug at the scarf draped carelessly around his shoulders. His nose is red no doubtingly from the cold and he looks angry. If this is how he always looks, we cannot perceive, but he continues to scowl as he steps further into the white cold. The grey stone of his apartment building becomes smaller as does the boy as our view becomes aerial until we see a much bigger picture: Saint Petersburg, Russia October 2017

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter is short, like an introductory into the fic and writing style. Still not sure how I feel about the writing style although it was fun to try. Also don’t know if my chapters will be consistent in length, but I do know some will be longer than this one for sure.
> 
> Also chapter summaries will be used to set the scene for the chapter so it’d be good to read them. :3

The classroom is only hushed murmurs and young girls with too dark lipstick and heavy eyelashes giggling too each other. It seems to be gossip aimed at the new boy standing in front of the classroom.

They talk about his unusual short build, his blue-green eyes and the bandage on the left side of his chin. A ruffian, one called him. A fairy, the other girl blushes.

“Yuri Plisetsky.” He calls himself.

He watches as one girl licks the gloss of her lips. She’s bold, fake eyelashes and a button too many undone on her blouse. The boy we now know as Yuri scowls and looks too her friend beside her.

She is a quiet girl and Yuri thinks her to look somewhat like a ditz and not because of her bottle blonde hair and large breasts but because he always had a knack for reading strangers. Yuri’s gift helped him to survive the last two years without the guide of his older brother, Yulian.

The classroom remains quiet as Yuri takes his seat in front of the blonde ditz. He seems to be displeased with the teacher’s choice of seating, his brows knit closer together, and his tense stride can be seen as he makes his way to the empty desk.

A boy sitting in the corner of the room surrounded by male peers takes notice of Yuri finally. He seems to be the leader, bigger, his presence is stronger than the boys that surround him. His clothes are fresh, in style and clean unlike his lackies, who sport rips and patches of dirt stains. They must do the dirty work while their boss barks the orders.

”Faggot.” The leader coughs out and his lackies snicker around him.

The golden blonde hair doesn’t even sway like ones does when you turn to look at the person calling you. Yuri is still and the leader is satisfied as he huffs and grins back and forth among the boys as if to say ‘See, he’s afraid of me. He won’t do anything because I own this classroom’.

Even the teacher is quiet as she fixes at her hair that does not need fixing and shuffles to the stacks of papers on her desk.

It’s only 8:35 am and Yuri already wants to escape.

 

Yuri listens as the blonde ditz’s friends belittle her, she has obviously said something to set her friends off or maybe this is how they always treat her.

It’s a new classroom now and they’re last period before school is over for the day and Yuri is annoyed that he has to begin and end his day with the same group of girls.

Luckily, the thug and his Lackies are nowhere to be seen. A sigh can be heard escaping the golden-haired boy’s mouth.

Artificial lighting fills the room, curtains are drawn as to not distract the daydreamers. Its loud with chatter and ruffling of book bags as everyone is getting comfortable in their groups.

Torn maps that look decades old line the walls of the room and Yuri wonders, with all the money his mother shovels out for private ballet lessons, why she forces him to suffer through public school life. Perhaps to punish him? 

Even the desk beneath his hands is chipped, graffitied with poorly drawn dicks and backwards swastikas and someone’s faded, penciled-in cellphone number.

Yuri then wonders for a while where his mother continues to get the money to even afford his prestigious ballet classes because he knows the modest wages he makes each season is only enough for them to survive on— his grandfather perhaps...Yuli’s..

His face softens now as he thinks of all the things his brother has left behind that his mother is undoubtedly using to fund all their materialistic things: his savings, his personal expensive ballet costumes that Yuri is too small for, although he insisted that he’d grow tall like his brother someday, Yuli’s...

He doesn’t want to think about the last item on the list but it’s the most obvious..

Yuli’s Life Insurence.

Yuri can feel someone staring at him now— another one of his gifts. And he’s right, he turns his head to see the girl looking at him as if she’s going to ask him something and Yuri wishes deep inside that she doesn’t.

Hes screaming internally, breaks eye contact, and burns through his textbook with an intense glare.

”Yuri.” The dumb girl calls out to him.

He wants to be nice but rude is all he’s known the past two years. So he settles for giving her a half turn of his head, peaking at her from behind his golden hair. 

“Would you like to join our group?” The girl’s voice is sincere but her friends are slapping her shoulder and scowling as if they did not want her to include Yuri. Even the girl with the lip gloss looks upset, although, her cheeks are blushed softly, not like the cherry red of embarrassed people, but someone who is behaving shyly.

”No.” Yuri does not sugarcoat his reply.

”See, I told you he’d say no you idiot. Now you’ve made us look lame as fuck.” One of the other girls say. She’s smaller than the rest but her attitude and expressions make up for what she lacks.

Yuri wants to stop, but he can’t hold back— not to such people who bully the weak. He hasn’t forgotten the boys from home room.

“They’re right ya know? You are an idiot if you put up with trashy friends who treat you like crap.” Yuri says smoothly, not hesitating at criticizing their appearance or their treatment of their friend.

The bell rings, Yuri is free. The girls remain quiet although the tension in the air is thick. Yuri is tired, mentally and physically. His joints pop as he stands up and throws his bag over his shoulders.

The girls are as still as statues until Yuri steps out of the classroom then they are alive with chatter and screeching and Yuri is reminded why he doesn’t like girls his age or anyone’s for that matter.

Yuri stands at the front of the school, the chilly air biting at his skin. He can almost feel his pores closing up. He steps out, thankful the flurry has stopped. He can see the sun peaking shyly from behind a puffy grey cloud that threatens to rain.

He breathes freely, the hardest part of the day over. Although Lilia and Yakov’s training is physically, and sometimes mentally demanding, Yuri prefers to be in their company, to be in his ballet slippers. He prefers for his muscles to ache and his body to protest as he bends and moves it unnaturally. 

Yuri puts on his headphones and the orchestrated music of _Manon_ Act 11, Scene 11 drowns out the the traffic noise. He is reminded of his upcoming rehearsals with his new dancing partner and a new scowl replaces the soften facial expression we rarely see. 

“I should have pushed harder for _Proust_.” He says to himself.

Yuri daydreams for the rest of his commute about haunting cello strings and a dance between good and evil, a combat of angels, that he was apparently ‘too young for’.

 

4:25 pm 

Yuri has made it to his destination. 

Inside he changes into his practice attire– a simple black, U neck T-shirt and black leggings. He steps into the practice room, it’s lined with barres and numerous square windows make up for most of the walls except for one of the walls that is completely lined with mirrors.

A woman, tall and thin, stands in the corner of the room. Her presence is intimidating, she’s aged, but not weak. She’s styled like you would suspect a retired prima ballerina to be– tight bun, black leotard and a matching long skirt that flows as she gracefully crosses the expansive room. 

“You’re late.” Her voice echoes through the great room. 

The instructor, whom we assume is Lilia, stares him up and down, her gaze pausing at his feet. An eyebrow arches and her rouge painted lips purse, she corrects herself and looks at Yuri fully.

”Why aren’t you wearing your pointes?” She lets out a frustrated sigh as if she’s had to give this lecture before.

”I don’t want to dance as Manon, I want to be in Proust! You know I can do it.”

”And you would do it impeccably, but you’re too young. Besides, Manon is a role for beauty and grace and you have both.”

”Manon is an idiot who dies because of love! Who could be that naive, it’s disgusting.” Yuri is standing defensively, his arms are crossed and his gaze no longer on his teacher.

”And you wouldn’t die for love, Yuri?” The instructors gaze is softer now as she stares at the young boy in front of her.

Periodically, her eyes settle on the bandage on his chin and on the fading bruises that looked like someone’s fingers wrapped around his thin forearms.

”There is no one alive I’d die for especially not a character played by that fuckboy JJ. Can we replace him? It’s not too late right?”

”Yuri, sometimes in life there are people we must put up with in order to get ahead, and I think this production will be good for the both of you. You both have a strong presence on stage and are going to blow critics and audiences away. Besides, I don’t get to choose who gets which roles so quit whining like an overprivileged prima and go put on your pointes.”

 

9:16 pm

He stares up at the tall building and it’s many windows. His arms and legs are crossed casually as he waits for someone he’s never met patiently, obediently, despite the chill brought on by the sun setting.

The lights begin to flicker on one by one until the entire city is lit up– It’s beautiful in which the way the light dances off the moisture and makes everything look softer.

The man resting on his bike rubs his hands together, still waiting, his fingertips are ice in his fingerless gloves, so he breathes warm air on them and a plume of steam floats and breaks away in the chilled air. 

He pulls his leather jacket tighter around himself as well as the grey scarf wrapped securely around his neck. He looks down at his leather boots, scuffed and worn, and taps the heel to shake the built up water off of them. 

He had planned his outfit badly for today’s forecast.

He looks up at the building, glad to see that it’s great doors are opening and a person small in stature walks out. They’re bundled up from head to toe with only a small bit of golden blonde hair poking through the layers of clothing. 

Yuri sees him now, he looks on to the mysterious dark stranger as he makes his way down the steps and onto the street. At a closer glance, Yuri sees the young man no longer has his tail or ears– an adult, Yuri assumes. The bike is in front of him now as well as the stranger leaning on it.

Yuri takes in the scene– black on black clothing, leather and metal. The man is tanned, a black undercut and sharp brows. He continues to walk and passes the man on his motorbike.

”Yuri?”

The golden haired boy freezes in place. Somehow this man knew his name. A passerby in a business suit looks at the two young men but keeps going. Cars honk at one another and there is chattering and movement of other students and salary men walking by. 

Yuri suddenly feels uneasy, but he puts on his best glare and turns to look at the stranger who is still wearing that same passive look. 

“I knew it was you because of your eyes..” 

Yuri feels like the stranger is going to continue his sentence but he pauses and never continues.

”Am I suppose to know who you are?” Yuri’s voice is like venom, defensive. But in all honesty, his question is genuine in nature.

”No.” The man answers.

”Good because I wouldn’t remember you even if I did.” 

“I’m Otabek Altin. I knew your brother Yulian..intimately, we were partners in figure skating.”

Yuri’s expression contorts, he’s confused maybe disgusted, like he’s bitten into a lemon.

”Tch wrong, Yuli didn’t figure skate, he was a danseur, a lead soloist not a paired figure skater or whatever you claim. Who set you up to this? Yakov? Lilia? Did they think I’d feel better if some stranger came waltzing up claiming to know my brother? Bet they were going to have you tell me some made up memories you have of him or something gross like that. Fuck off Otto– whatever your name is, I’m busy.”

I can prove it– I can show you if you’ll let me.” Yuri hated the way the man’s voice sounded sincere.

”And how do you plan to do that?” Yuri crosses his arms and juts a hip out to the side.

He’s skeptical, he has to be because there is no one that has no motive on Earth to hurt him. People always find a reason to use you and hurt you, that is how Yuri thinks, that’s what he feels in his heart.

Otabek pushes up off of his bike and smooths out his clothes.

”Come with me to the skating rink downtown, I can show you there, please?” Otabek’s arm is reaching out to Yuri, and it bothers the boy how much he wants to respond, how he’d like to trust this stranger and grab his hand.

”Please, Yuri..for Yuli?” The dark, mysterious man’s face softens but there is still something in his eyes that sends a warning chill through the blonde boy’s body.

He battles with himself internally, wavering between the pros and cons.

Yuri hears the crescendoing haunting strings and beating piano cords of Gabriel Faure’s, _Elegie for Piano and Cello in C minor_ playing in his head as clearly as if it were playing in his headphones as he hesitantly reaches out in return.

He takes the hand of Morel in his. 

He is defeated.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some facts: In the ballet Proust, Blonde haired Saint Loup, the angel (yuri) is tempted by Morel, the dark haired angel/the devil (otabek). They fight but Morel is successful and Saint Loup becomes his lover. :) The music piece listed in the fic is the song used during they’re battle. :) It is a highly recommended watch. 
> 
> And I’m aware that there are a lot of French ballet references but I only like one Russian ballet, Giselle, at least I think it’s russian. lol xD I’m sorry.
> 
> Also, please feel free to leave your personal opinions of the chapters as you finish each one, I would love to hear from you all. :3


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